


all the difference

by WonderBoy



Series: Tumblr Prompts [5]
Category: Kuragehime | Princess Jellyfish
Genre: Drabble, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt, kiss prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 12:29:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13501696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderBoy/pseuds/WonderBoy
Summary: Across the room, Kuranosuke sees Tsukimi’s brow furrow as she looks at herself in the mirror. Her hands flutter over the skirt of the dress and he can see her picking apart the jellyfish attributes through the glass. She’s been pouring over the same dress for hours now. The large skirt poofs out around her thighs in a soft globe. Glitter sparkles under the translucent top layer of fabric, catching on the overhead light. It looks beautiful.But Kuranosuke knows the expression Tsukimi wears now means something doesn’t look jellyfish-enough for her.





	all the difference

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr Prompt/Request: 17. height difference kisses where one person has to bend down and the other is on their tippy toes. So Tsukimi and Kuranosuke when he's in heels.
> 
> I haven't done anything with these characters before (or at least not for a long time), or even read/watched Princess Jellyfish in ages, so this was both fun and nostalgic. It also makes me want to dive headfirst back into that series even though I definitely do not have time for that

Across the room, Kuranosuke sees Tsukimi’s brow furrow as she looks at herself in the mirror. Her hands flutter over the skirt of the dress and he can see her picking apart the jellyfish attributes through the glass. She’s been pouring over the same dress for hours now. The large skirt poofs out around her thighs in a soft globe. Glitter sparkles under the translucent top layer of fabric, catching on the overhead light. It looks beautiful.

But Kuranosuke knows the expression Tsukimi wears now means something doesn’t look jellyfish-enough for her.

Tsukimi finally glances up, and a blush rushes over her cheeks when she meets his gaze through the mirror. He’s in an awkward cross of “male” and “female” clothing, and sometimes he still wonders if it’s the clothing or the time that’s passed between them that stops her from freezing up altogether like she used to.

Tsukimi’s eyes dart between his and the skirt. “If you could try it on again, maybe a different perspective could help me-”

He shakes his head, stopping her request before she can fully form it. “We’ve already adjusted the bodice for you, no more unnecessary alterations.”

“But-”

“It’s beautiful, Tsukimi.” He picks up his abandoned magazine once again, lifting it high enough to cover his face, though it’s hardly a comfortable reading position. He only holds it there long enough to read, and absorb nothing of, two sentences, before he lowers it to peek over the top. Tsukimi’s back to studying the dress in the mirror, mostly ignoring his presence, so he drops the magazine to his lap again, back to studying her.

She lifts the skirt, just enough to flash the short slip under it for a moment before she lowers it again. Tilting her head, she repeats the motion a few times, twisting her body a little each way to get a look at a different part of the dress.

He sees the realization dawn on her, the surprise and joy of figuring out the last puzzle piece traveling over and transforming her expression like the sunrise.

She drops the skirt and glances up, meeting his eye in the mirror once again. But rather than glancing away, she grins wide, cheeks flushed with excitement rather than nerves. “Tulle!” Is all she says, and even after all this time, he’s not sure exactly where her mind jumps to when it comes to her designs, but he trusts that, somehow, when she’s done the dress will look even better than he already thinks it does.

Tossing the magazine to the table, he gets to his feet, crossing the room in a few, quick strides. She hasn’t moved from her spot, rattling off a shopping list and design plan to herself in a mumbled shorthand only she can make sense of. She barely notices that he’s joined her at the mirror, until he places a hand on her shoulder.

She freezes, glancing up at his reflection. “Kura-”

“Turn around,” he says softly, dropping his hand to brush down along her arm.

She does as she’s asked, biting at her bottom lip as she comes around to face him.

He’s still in his heels, and she’s barefoot, so their height difference is more pronounced than usual. His  other hand drifts up, tucking stray strands of hair behind her ear.

“Can you stand on your tip-toes for a minute?” He asks next.

He can see the question on the tip of her tongue, but she only hesitates for a moment before rising up in compliance.

_Still so short._

He bends forward, hand curling around to cup the back of her head, holding her in place as he presses a soft kiss against her lips. She freezes for a moment, before he feels her warm up to the kiss. One of her hands reaches up, small fingers wrapping around the wrist behind her ear, as if to keep _him_ in place.

He tries to shuffle closer, but the width of the skirt stops him, and that seems to break her from the daze. She pulls away, blinking owlishly up at him, like she isn’t quite sure what just happened.

“Tulle,” she repeats.

He sighs. “Tulle.”

“For the tentacles,”

“Of course.”

“I need to go to the store.” She drops back to flat feet and turns away from him.

He lets her get as far as the door before he stops her. “Maybe not _in_ the dress?”

She stops, looking down at herself, one hand on the doorknob, another pressed against her chest. “R-Right.”

He waves her back over so that he can unzip her from the dress. He holds onto it carefully as she steps out of it, knowing some of the hem is still pinned and fragile. He takes it to the mannequin against the wall, while she darts over to her discarded clothing. She doesn’t even bother to remove her slip as she tugs a sweatshirt over her head. He realizes as he watches her attempt to pull on sweatpants and head for the door at the same time that the sweater is one of his, rather than her usual plain grey.

She flashes a smile at him just before she darts through the door. “Thanks!”

“I didn’t do anything,” he replies to the empty doorway, even as another smile teases the corners of his mouth. The fabric of the dress is soft under his fingers as he finishes zipping it up. “It was all you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Come yell at me, request new things, or just stalk the progress of other fics on tumblr @ thathopelessromantic.tumblr.com


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